© by Gerald So | 5:30 AM
My father was a stoic, often sarcastic man. I was an articulate, expressive son. He pushed me to get top grades. I very seldom did. He liked gardening and fishing. I didn't. Nonetheless, I felt his love for me in quiet moments: watching movies or baseball, having a little breakfast before he went to work.
He was the kind of dad who never praised me directly. I'd have to hear he was pleased from his colleagues or my mother. I heard he was as surprised and pleased as I was when I received a high school graduation award for excellence in English. I heard he was proud to hear my office voicemail, "For Professor So, please dial..." That's how I know he'd be proud of my career, and it makes all the difference.
He died from pancreatic cancer in 2001, almost six years after surgery saved his life. I don't feel I've lost him. Hopefully I've learned and will continue to learn the right lessons from our time together.
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